


Homemaker

by MsrTenOverSix



Series: How to Fail Remedial Goodness 101 [2]
Category: Descendants (Disney Movies)
Genre: Gen, Harry is the Reason We Don't Get to Have Nice Things, Is this friendship?, Tutoring, Uma deserves more props for putting up with her crew
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-30
Updated: 2019-12-30
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:07:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22026052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MsrTenOverSix/pseuds/MsrTenOverSix
Summary: “We need a favor.”Forever after, Evie would walk out the door the moment Ben or Mal uttered those words.
Series: How to Fail Remedial Goodness 101 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1585399
Comments: 8
Kudos: 40





	1. Homemaker - Part I

_“We need a favor.”_

Forever after, Evie would walk out the door the moment Ben or Mal uttered those words.

Jay had been smart. He’d only stuck around for approximately 60 seconds before catapulting himself out the open window and into the night. Never mind the two-story drop.

Carlos had held his tongue for another 87 seconds before throwing his hands into the air, declaring them both mad and calling the whole scheme certifiably insane.

Evie, days later, was still trying to think up a more polite way of rephrasing Carlos’ declaration. Sadly, it was now quite a bit too late, as she stood before the door to what could only be her imminent demise.

Taking a deep breath, she steels herself for the inevitable with all the grace of royalty. Her game face is on, as impeccable as always, and her outfit is downright fierce, meaning that she's as ready as she'll ever be. (She spends another minute listing all her excellent qualities, because it never hurts to give yourself extra props.)

* * *

_“You want us…us… to tutor…them?” Carlos’ voice pitched high, a bit like a crying puppy, and he looked suitably terrified by the idea. Evie would as well if it didn’t carry the threat of wrinkles. Hearing Mal and Ben list all the reasons why this was necessary didn’t exactly make it sound any more appealing. Though she supposed it was good to know in advance that none of the wharf kids could be trusted around the talking mice and birds._

_“Yes.” Mal sounds so reluctant, and looks so apologetic, Evie could almost forgive her. Almost, but at the same time she knew this is a grudge she would never let go. Evil instincts and all that._

_“Look, everyone is watching to see how this goes. And if anyone’s going to cause problems…“ Ben looked uncomfortable, but she got the message. If anyone was going to cause problems, and possibly the sabotage the entire deal, it was probably going to be one of them._

_Carlos and Evie still couldn’t help but exchange a look._

_“Seriously, please.” Mal all but begged._

* * *

Sometimes, being good totally sucked.

* * *

She burst through the door in a whirl of glitz and pep, knowing she needed the momentum to hide her nerves. She knows her entrance is satisfactory given the immediate muttered curse accompanied by a chair landing heavily on all four of its legs.

“Alright!” Using her perkiest tone, she approaches the table in great strides, her heels punctually each step with a sharp click, “Home Ec!”

She slaps her kit down on the table, its considerable size making an impressive ‘thunk’ as it lands. She turns in a flare of blue hair, red lips poised in her most winning smile.

“What do you know about sewing?”

The look Harry Hook gives her would have quelled a lesser villain, or, er, a lesser reformed villain. As it is, Evie keeps her flawless charm in place and patiently waits through his sulky silence.

“If I knew anything,” he drawls, finally, “I wouldn’t be here now, would I?”

Personally, she thought he could have looked or sounded a bit more adoring, considering she was here to save his ass, but she could almost swear he looked intimidated, which was a great start for every lesson.

“Well then, we’ll soon change that, won’t we?” She willed herself to succeed and wasn’t worried at all by the total lack of return enthusiasm.

* * *

She makes it a total of 39 minutes before throwing an apple directly at the back of his head. Only half the fabric is shredded beyond repair.  
Altogether, it’s a much better start than she imagined.


	2. Homemaker - Part II

_“Tutoring,” Uma quirked her brow, shooting an oddly exasperated look across the lunchroom table, “For Home Ec? Really, Harry?”_

_Evie tried not to shift, refusing to look uncomfortable as she stood beside the three pirates, having interrupted them at lunch to give Harry the details for their meetup (Carlos had claimed dibs on Gil). She couldn’t help but notice that few students lingered in the immediate area. Though the three hadn’t been causing that much trouble (theoretically), the Auradonians were noticeably scared (shitless) of the trio._

_She should really speak to Fairy Godmother about accelerating their “How to Laugh like You’re NOT Deranged” lessons (the title might have been Jay’s idea)._

_“I’m a shit hand at it,” Harry admitted with a shrug, looking totally unapologetic as he poked at his lunch with his hook. Gil ate everything with the enthusiasm and trust of a new puppy, and Uma with just enough chill to not look too terribly impressed. Harry, however, still ate like he expected every new item to be poisoned. Evie was good at recognizing that look._

_Uma muttered something terribly unflattering under her breath, some combination of “really?” and a pointed insult about masculine pride. Harry seemed to ignore it, which really should have raised Evie's suspicions._

_Gil’s brow was heavily furrowed, a frown in place as he also stared across at Harry, as if he were seeing him for the first time, “You can’t sew?”_

_Gil was also distinctly horrible at Home Ec, but he at least was showing improvement, which was pretty much the only course requirement. Harry, it seemed, grew progressively worse as the days passed._

_Rolling her eyes, Uma abandoned her meal and stood from the table with a huff, “I can’t, guys. I really can’t today.”_

* * *

Tutoring was…slow going. And not for any lack of trying on Evie’s part. She tried him with every tactic she knew, starting him with simple templates, close-up lessons, fun videos, and step-by-step lessons, etc., Evie was determined to find the training method that would break through Harry's thick skull. 

Sadly, she quickly learned that Harry had the biggest knack for self-sabotage whenever he so much as held a needle and thread. What would always start off so simply would quickly escalate into an unsalvageable wreck. Each lesson ended with her a little more dead inside as she stubbornly repeated her promise to Mal and Ben, her promise to try.

But while her optimism was quickly fading, Harry seemed untouched. He left each lesson with a shrug and a jaunty wave, in the same mood beginning to end. Though she tried not to show it, Evie was coming to the drastic conclusion that this was a total lost cause. No one could be so bad at something unless they were actively trying to be.

This pattern of destruction might have gone on forever, if Evie hadn't caught on one day. Harry had just left, and she’d only just gathered up the day’s results, an assortment of ruined fabric and miscellaneous supplies, and had moved to throw them (all too eagerly) into the trash. She only just stopped in time, a certain item at the top of the can catching her eye.

Her brow started to furrow before she reminded herself: Wrinkles. Letting her face smooth back to perfection, she daintily plucked the item out. After pausing to berate herself for taking anything out of the trash, she flipped the item in her hands. She stared. For several long moments as her mind struggled to catch up with what she already knew she was seeing. As her confusion grew, so did a steady pressure behind the eyes that could only signify pure, unadulterated rage. 

* * *

The next day Harry was inspecting his nails, not even bothering to look up as she blast into the room (he'd gotten used to it fairly quickly, or at least at hiding his surprise). However, he hadn't anticipated her striding right up next to him, and shoving him with whatever might her body could manage. Which turned out to be a surprising amount.

He toppled straight onto the floor, chair falling beside him as he sputtered angrily. Evie whipped something at his face, which he only barely caught. He was just about to throw it back in juvenile retaliation when he actually took a moment to glance down at it. It was one of the templates she’d given Harry the other day; a simple star pattern. Unlike all the other templates, this one had been completed, the edges had been done with far more skill than the template warranted, the star edged in lashing waves and rows of sharp teeth. The inside of the star had been marked like an old compass, and on further detail she noticed that traces of a clock had been hidden in the details.

Immediately, his body froze up, tension ratcheting up his frame. His eyes darted to Evie's, and seeing her unforgiving expression, he could only close his eyes, slowly, reluctantly, in response. 

"Ah, fuck."

"Explain." She seethed, her smile forced. She swore he actually winced. 

"I don't know-" He edged, but was instantly startled again as she ripped the template out of his hands. However, she just thrust it back in his face.

"You can sew!" She spat, or as close as a princess would dare get to spitting, he supposed. Surprisingly, it wasn't that far away.

"Aye, ah ken.” He admitted, finally, drumming his fingers along the hook in his hand, which he started to move across the floor. If he could just hook the table, then maybe...

Her heel landed firmly on the hook, pinning it in place.

Right. He was carefully avoiding her eye at this point. Gil had taught him that angry animals didn't like it when you made eye contact. It was no shame to not look one in the eye if it meant avoiding a pointless bloodbath. And dying in a tutoring session would definitely be very pointless, wouldn't it?

He glanced up when she made no comment, but judging by her steadily rising eyebrows, she was definitely waiting for a followup. 

He huffed, almost offended that he was having to explain himself, "I'm a pirate!"

Which didn't explain a damn thing. Like hell was Evie leaving it at that.

"Ex-plain." She demanded, as if charm was the furthest thing on her mind. Oh, her mother would shriek. Like how she had that time when she died. 

Hook actually sunk further into the floor, as if contemplating playing dead. When her eyes didn't falter he actually started to fidget.

"I...it's practical, is all." His gaze turns longingly towards the exit, but he makes reluctant eye contact when she moves to block his view. 

"Practical." Her drawl is actually an impressive imitation of his own. He would actually be impressed if he wasn't trying to cover his own arse. 

"Aye..." He groans, finally looking at her again. He's quiet a moment longer before he finally seems to realize he can't get out of this. 

"Look, you don't grow up sword-fighting without getting a few scrapes and tears, alright? Cuts needed to be dealt with, whether in your skin or clothes," he gesticulates vaguely, as if that adds any illumination, "Uma don't got half the patience, and ain't no one trusting Gil with a needle, alright?"

He was actually talking to the ceiling now, but that made it easier, "It's not like we had a ton of clothes to throw out, either. So, whenever one of us or a shirt needed stitching up, it fell to me." He mumbled, one hand finding the table leg. He pushed with his thumbnail hard enough to dent the wood permanently, still refusing to really look at Evie, "Not to mention all the damn sail repairs." 

Evie's still staring down at him, trying to handle this revelation, when another ones strikes her from the blue. She sits heavily in the chair beside him. Taking it as a sign he's allowed to move, he slowly right-ends his own fallen chair. His hair is a mess from being on the floor, but he doesn't seem to notice as he makes to stand again.

"Harry, who made the nets for the bait shop?"

He bristles, head whipping back to glare at her. He looks positively indignant and opens his mouth to argue, but only half an angry note comes out before she cuts him off, "Those nets are hand knit, aren't they? And people must come in for repairs." 

His mouth closes, opens again, and recloses; sort of like a fish. She waits, but eventually he just keeps his mouth shut, his glare having turned into something sulky again. Evie takes a deep, calming breath, realizing she needs to attack the heart(ha!) of the problem. 

“So why…are you failing in home ec, exactly?”

He looks positively aghast, as if the answer should be obvious.

“Are ye kidding me? I'm supposed to let everyone here know?” He spits aggressively, "I'm supposed to let all these stuck up, poncy-"

Alright, she hates him. Simple as that, she hates him.

"-I daren’t imagine what people would say!”

Ego. This is all about Harry's ego. All of Uma's earlier scorn suddenly makes so much sense. Oh dear, the amount of bull that girl must have had to put up with on a daily basis. 

Evie would bury her face in her hands, if that wouldn't just destroy her makeup.

“Please don't tell me you can cook." She whines. 

Harry just looks bewildered, stopping mid-rant. He casts her a wary glance, as if she were missing the point rather than him. He pauses, contemplating the question fairly,

“Suppose I can do a filet as well as anyone can." He admits, scratching his cheek with the back of his hook, "And here does have a nice assortment of spices compared to the Isle, so it’s pretty easy to manage a decent achiote – really though, it’s Gil who’s a dab hand at cooking up–”

Evie groans loudly, dropping her face into her hands and lamenting the 5-or-so years that have been added to her complexion. 

**Author's Note:**

> Harry is totally a homemaker, don't even front. He's also 100% the type of guy that would fail classes to protect his reputation. 
> 
> This is just one segment of what it'd be like trying to tutor any of the trio. Carlos probably faked his own death after trying to teach Gil math.
> 
> Anyways, I'd love a comment if you've got time to spare. I'd also like to know what you guys would like to see, storywise.


End file.
